The Urchins
by very-not-inanimate
Summary: Seymour meets a trio of young women who seem to know everything about everyone.


My really good friend on Tumblr, marsofthestars55, has been having a rough time lately, and I promised them I'd write them a drabble. If there's anything I am, it's a good friend. Plus, today's my Little Shop anniversary! This was the only way I know how to celebrate, and I think I did a good job. Enjoy!

Seymour rarely went outside. He never needed to, unless he was running errands. But he never had the time to go out on his own, to take his own time and observe the outside world. But here he was now, sitting on the curb, for no reason other than to watch the sun set.

The colors were so much duller out here. Almost everything was black or gray or brown. There was the occasional red of a scarf on a passerby or the ginger fur of an alley cat, but for the most part, everything was dark and boring.

But now, as the sun began to settle behind the buildings, everything had a little bit of color to it, a faint orangey-pink. Seymour gazed across the street to where Audrey lived and smiled to himself.

_No matter what time of day,_ he thought. _There will always be one little bit of color here on Skid Row._

Suddenly, Seymour caught notice of the three young women that always seemed to be hanging around the shop. They weren't speaking, but were simply leaning against the wall. If he had been Mr. Mushnik, Seymour would have scolded them for loitering. But he wasn't Mr. Mushnik. Instead, he smiled politely.

"Hello," he greeted them. Their heads turned to look at him, and Seymour's confidence dropped.

"Uh, I'm-I'm Seymour. I've-I've-I've seen you guys around. What're-What're your names?"

For a moment, the girls were silent. After what felt like forever, one of them spoke.

"Name's Chiffon." She jerked her thumb toward the girl on her left, then toward the girl on her right. "Ronette, Crystal."

"You're the kid in the shop here, aren't ya?" Ronette asked him. "The one who lives in the basement?"

"Ye-Yeah, that's me. How-How-How did you know that?"

Chiffon shrugged. "We know lots of things. When ya live on Skid Row and ya don't have a job, there's nothin' better to do than watch people."

"That's… not creepy at all." Seymour felt a little violated.

"Don't worry about that. We know everyone down here."

"Like who?"

"Like that girl ya work with, the one across the street," Crystal butted in.

"Oh!" he exclaimed. "You mean Audrey! Yeah, she-she's great. Really sweet."

"I'll bet." Ronette smirked at the other two. "You like her then?"

"Well, sure! She- I- She's a good friend. My only friend, I guess you could say." Seymour tried to laugh it off and hide his feelings, but the trio didn't look convinced.

"A good friend you say?" Chiffon winked. "We ain't stupid. Anyone who watched you for five seconds could tell how ya feel about her."

"I-She-It's—" Seymour couldn't find words.

"Ah. So you admit it?"

"I-Yeah, I guess I do… have… ya know, feelings for her. I think. I don't know. Just… don't let it get out, okay?"

"We don't have to," Crystal remarked. "Pretty much everyone knows."

"WHAT?!" _She does, doesn't she? She must think I'm so pathetic! Dang it, dang it, dang it!_

"Uh-huh. I think the only one who doesn't know is her."

Seymour heaved a sigh of relief. "Oh. I-Am I that obvious?"

"Pretty much. You're pretty much hopeless."

"Why haven't you told her?" quired Chiffon.

"I couldn't do that! She- As great as she is, she's got a boyfriend. Even-even if she didn't, there's-there's no way she'd ever feel the same."

"What makes ya think that?" Ronette raised her eyebrows.

"Well, look at her! She's sweet, caring, compassionate, gentle… I'm just a clumsy, awkward kid who rarely even leaves the florist!" Seymour didn't feel like this needed explaining. _It's so obvious,_ he thought. _There's no way she'd like me back. No way._

Ronette shrugged. "If you say so. I'm just sayin', there's always a chance."

"Yeah, about a million in one," Seymour muttered sadly to himself. "Any-Anyway, I should probably head back-back to the shop. It-it was really nice mee-meeting you."

"See ya around Seymour." Chiffon lifted her hand in a kind of wave, and Seymour returned the gesture. He turned back toward the shop.

"_There's always a chance…" Is there?_ Seymour mused as he trudged inside and toward his room. _I guess they're right. But she could never like someone like me. I already had that figured out._

Seymour adjusted his glasses and began making his way downstairs. _Still, they were pretty nice to me. Most people don't even see me, let alone talk to me._

_Maybe they're my friends now, too. Or my acquaintances, at the very least._

"Well," he murmured aloud. "It looks like I have more friends than I did yesterday."


End file.
